


No, come back!

by Kate_Christie



Series: Fictober 2020 [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Champagne, F/M, Fictober 2020, Fictober2020, Post-Episode: s03e04 Coda, fictober20, gratuitous snuggling, j/c - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26772256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Christie/pseuds/Kate_Christie
Summary: Fictober 2020 10/1/20. Quick J/C post ep for Coda.
Relationships: Chakotay & Kathryn Janeway
Series: Fictober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951720
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	No, come back!

“No, come back!” 

Kathryn Janeway was drunk.  _ Tipsy _ , Phoebe would say. 

Literally tipping the sailboat as she stood up, she clung to the railing, watching Chakotay disembark on much steadier legs. She couldn’t recall the last time she had over-indulged on the real thing—certainly not since she had been captain of Voyager. That she had allowed herself this breach of protocol spoke as much to the toll her brush with death had taken on her psyche as it did to her rocksteady trust in her evening’s company.

“I’m not going far.” Chakotay was tying a knot worthy of any 18th century seafaring first mate, kneeling on the dock along the moonlit shore of Lake George—well, the holodeck-replicated version of Lake George, anyway. 

“Good, because it wouldn’t do for the captain to drip her way through the corridors at midnight after capsizing her ship. Boat.  _ Sail _ boat.” Though the chilly water would probably counteract the effects of her insistence upon not letting their last glass of bubbles go to waste. 

Chakotay steadied the craft with one hand and reached the other across the gap for her to grab. Before she did, she turned back for the now-empty bottle of vintage Champagne, plucking it from the remnants of their picnic and tucking it against her loose, linen shirt. 

“Souvenir,” she pronounced, gripping his hand and hoisting herself up on the dock with only the tiniest wobble. 

“Let’s see how you do on dry land. There’s always the transporter.” Chakotay was giving her an indulgent half-grin, wrapping his free arm around her waist, pointing them in the direction of the holodeck exit. His large frame dwarfed her in her flat sandals, and her alcohol-blunted inhibitions allowed her a moment to relish leaning into the heat of his body.

Kathryn’s eyes closed and she inhaled, feeling her lungs expand, the metallic tinge of recycled air filling them instead of the damp, earthy scent of lake-lapped shore in springtime. It hadn’t occurred to her that her nose might also find the muted remnants of her first officer’s cologne. Well-buried memories of dirt and stars and sun-browned skin flashed across the black canvas of her eyelids. 

Turning in his arms, she looked up to find his eyes on her, dark and steady. Every one of her carefully crafted, enumerated and catalogued list of reasons not to kiss the man she loved slipped right from her mind.

“I want to kiss you.” It was a last-ditch effort to stop herself—her failsafe with any decision she doubted—seeking his counsel aloud, and he did not disappoint.

“As much as I want you to, I’m afraid it’s the champagne talking.” His dose of reason was delivered with a smile, softening the blow.

“I assure you it’s the woman,” flattening her hand against his chest, just over his heart, she felt its pounding, proof he meant it when he had so casually confessed he wanted her as much as she did him. Stretching up on her toes, she nudged the tip of her nose against the dimple in his chin. “The one who cheated death today, thanks to you.”

“I’ll make you a deal.” His breath was warm across her forehead, lips grazing her skin in the most tempting caress. “If I take you back to your quarters, and put you to bed—“

“I’m liking the sound of this deal so far.” She pulled back just enough to give him her best bedroom eyes, but he gripped her shoulders with gentle fingers and ducked to touch his forehead to hers.

“—and you wake up tomorrow morning and still want to kiss me, I’m all yours.” 

The sparkle in his eyes charmed her into acquiescence, and before she could even attempt weaving along corridors and through lifts, he was keying in an override for a site-to-site transport.

Moonlight and lapping waves dissolved into the muted darkness of her quarters. Though Chakotay was often here, he rarely stayed so late or stood so close, and their familiarity was suddenly unnerving. Kathryn excused herself to freshen up and find pajamas with an offer for him to make himself at home.

Reaching into her top drawer, her first instinct was to grab her favorite satin nightgown. Gripping the slippery fabric between her fingers, she paused, then let it fall back among its compatriots and opened the next drawer instead.

A few moments later, when she returned with her face scrubbed and hair unpinned, dressed in soft cotton pants and long-sleeved, pale purple tunic she found him setting a large glass of water beside her bed.

“I promise I’ll be fine—you don’t really have to tuck me in, Chakotay.” Her head had already begun to clear of the cotton-candy haze that had mellowed the harsh memories of her day.

“A deal’s a deal.” He smiled as he turned down the covers on her bed and stepped back to let her climb in and slide between the cool sheets. “Computer, dim lights.”

She swallowed down half the glass of water and then sank into the pillows, exhaustion overtaking her and leaving her fighting to keep her eyes open even a moment longer. Chakotay was still hovering just beside her bed. Champagne or no, her feelings for him were always there, they had just risen closer to the surface with the help of those bubbles.

“Thank you. For… everything.” This night. Her life. Never once giving up on her. 

“You’re welcome, Kathryn.” He was backing toward the door, a sad smile receding into the darkness.

The image of him cradling her in his arms on that planet, begging her not to die, pushed itself to the front of her memory.

“No, come back. Stay a while. Please?”

For just a moment he paused, neither retreating or advancing, and a look she couldn’t quite name crossed his face. Perhaps he, too, had found a memory he couldn’t shake. Everything she had experienced could have been her imagination, so there was no telling what his version of events looked like, but the darkness in his eyes in that instant seemed to propel him forward. 

As he curled up behind her, warm and solid, securing one arm around her waist and tucking his nose at the nape of her neck, she felt the last of the tension leave her body, and she slept.

Hours later, she awoke to the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her ear, one leg slung across his hips, the rest of her still firmly entangled in his arms. He seemed fast asleep, so she chanced a look at the time. 

Finding an hour left before her alarm, she lifted her head from his chest and took in the gentle curves of his face slack with sleep. The lines and furrows that defined his waking hours were softer somehow.

So much of their lives was spent surviving one crisis or another. The same devil-may-care impulse that had driven her to invite him to take a few hours to celebrate cheating death sparked to life again. Even the captain and her first officer deserved to spend the hours between crises actually living. Otherwise, what were they surviving for?

Before she could change her mind, she leaned in close and pressed her lips to his.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t done the “write and post every day” thing in a very long time, but I’m giving it a go. Might bounce around fandoms a bit. Thanks for reading and thanks to Alex for the quick beta.


End file.
